Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A01740
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A posie of gilloflowers eche differing from other in colour and odour, yet all sweete. By Humfrey Gifford gent.
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Gifford, Humphrey.; Tolomei, Claudio, 1492-1555. aut
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1580
(1580)
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STC 11872; ESTC S108637
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86,923
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163
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Gratitude she was That thākful Dame whose custom is frō friend to friend to passe I tooke my pen in hand with purpose to declare The Circumstance of this my dreame w t cloyd my hed with care Herein also I thought her precepts to obey And al the plot of thy deserts most largely to display But when my dreame was done I found such litle store Of paper that I could not haue wherin to write the more ¶ One that had a frowarde Husband makes complaynt to her mother Written in French by Clement Marott AND is there any wight aliue That rightly may compare Or goe beyond me silly wretch In sadnesse and in care Some such may be but this I say One must goe farre to séeke To finde a woman in this worlde Whose griefe to mine is like Or hath so iust a cause of moane In dumps of déepe despite I linger on my loathsome life Depriud of all delight Men say the Phoenix is a birde Whose like cannot bée found I am the Phoenix in this worlde Of that those care doth wound And he that workes me all this woe May be the Phoenix well Of all enraged senslesse wightes That in the earth doe dwell I moane not here as Dido did Being stryken at the heart As woorthy Virgill doeth recorde With dint of Cupids dart Nor in my playnts some Louer name As Sappho did of yore But husband is the cause héereof Which makes my griefe the more For Louers if they like vs not We may cast of agayne But with our husbandes good or bad Till death we must remayne I doe not speake these wordes as if His death I did desire But rather that it might please God His thoughts so to enspire That he might vse me as he ought Or as I doe deserue Since that I him as duety byndes Doe honour loue and serue And séemes it not desert thinke you At his commaund to haue The beauty greate and other giftes that nature to me gaue Ist not desert such one with him In loyall bed to lie As alwayes hath most faythfull byn And will be till shée die To looke on him with chéerefull face to call him Spouse and friend To coll and kisse all this hée hath With franke and willing mynde And all thinges els as God commaunds And duety doth allowe Yet am I dealt with at his handes Alas I know not howe Hée thanklesse man doth ill for good Agaynst all right and lawe Hée had of me good fruitfull Corne And payes mée chaffe and straw For méeke and humble curtesie Fierce cruelty hée geues For loyalty disloyalty And that which most mée grieues Is when in swéete and humble sorte I come to make my moane His heart no more is mollified Then is the Marble stone The cruell Lyon ready bent With pawes and téeth to teare When that the silly Hounde doeth yéelde His malice doeth forbeare When Attalus the Romayne host Did erst subdue in field His heart to mercy was enclinde Assoone as they did yéelde Blacke Pluto eke the Prince of hell Vneasie to bée woone When Orpheus had playde on harpe His rankour all was done By swéetnesse and by curtesie What is not wrought alas Nerethlesse the swéetenesse Feminine Which others all doth passe Can nothing doe before the eyes Of my hardhearted féere The more that I submit my selfe The straunger is his chéere So that in wrongfull cruelty And spite he doth excel The Lions wilde the Tyrants stoute And monsters eke of hel As ofte as I reuolue in mynde The greatnesse of my harmes I thinke how foorth the Fowler goes with swéete and pleasant charmes To take the birds which once betrayd He eyther killes straight way Or kéepes them pende in pensiue cage That flie no more they may And so at first I taken was By his swéete fléering face And now depriude of ioy alas Am handled in like case Now if the birdes as some auouch Doe curse his kéeper still In language his why curse I not The Author of my yll That griefe doeth euer greater harme Which hidden lies in brest Then that which to some faithfull friend By speaking is exprest My sorowes then shall bée reuealde Some stedfast friend vnto My tongue thereby vnto my heart A pleasure greate may doe But vnto whom shoulde I disclose My bondage and my thrall Vnto my spouse No surely no My gaynes shoulde bee but small Alas to whom then shoulde I moane Should I some Louer choose Who in my sorowes and my griefes As partner I might vse Occasions great do counsell me To put this same in vre Mine honour and mine honestie Forbid such rashnes sure Wherefore ye louers al adew Vnto some other goe I will obserue my vowed fayth Though to my greatest foe To whome shal I powre forth my plaints To you most louing mother For they by dutie do belong To you and to none other To you I come to séeke reliefe With moyst and wéeping eies Euen as the heart with thirst opprest Vnto the fountaine hies If any salue in all the world may serue to cure my wound Dame Nature sayes vndoubtedly In you it must be found Now if some succour may be had Assisted let me be But if it lie not in your power Yet spend some teares with me That yours with mine mine with yours Might so kéepe moyst the flowre That erst procéeded from your wombe And wasteth euery houre His Friend W. C. to Mistres F. K. whom he calls his Captaine AS Souldiers good obey their captaines will And readie are to goe to ride or runne And neuer shrinke their duety to fulfill But what they byd it by and by is done So rest I yours good Captayne to dispose When as you please to combate with your foes Your foes sayd I alas what may they be That haue the heart to harme so swéete a wight Who dare attempt to try his force with thée Shall conquerd be ere he begin to fight Let thousand foes agaynst thee come in field Thy beauty great will make them all to yéeld To yéeld sayd I nay rather would they choose By thée subdude to liue in bondage still Then lead such life as Conquerors doe vse In thy disgrace and wanting thy good will But strike the drumme let the trumpet sound To take thy part whole legions wil be found So many eares as euer heard thée speake So many eyes as haue thy feature vewde So many handes thy puysance hath made weake So many heartes thy beauty hath subdued Ech of these eares ech eye ech hand ech heart Swéet Captain stil are prest to take thy part Ech eare to heare when enuy séekes thy foyle Ech eye to spy who worketh thine anoy Ech hand with blade to conquere them in broyle Ech gladsome heart for victory to ioy Thus euery part the trusty friend will play For thy behoofe whom God preserue alway The complaynt of a sinner LIke as the théefe in prison cast With wofull wayling mones When hope of pardon cleane is
vice doe to thy lot befall From thée they came doe take them to thee all To thée O earth agayne I do restore My carrion corpes which from thée did procéede Because it did neglect all godly lore Let gréedy wormes vpon it alwayes féede Let it in filth consume and rot away And so remaine vntil the iudgement day But my poore soule whō Christ most déerly bought Which hated sinne and loathed to offend Together with ech good and godly thought Into thy handes swéete Iesu I commend O sauiour Christ doe guide my steppes so well That after death she stil with thée may dwell A Complaynt of a Louer IF euer wofull wight had cause to pipe in bitter smart I which am thrall to Cupids lawes with him may beare a part Whose ioyful dayes alas are gone whom daily cares doe tosse But wote yée why I thus take on my lucke is turnde to losse Erecruell loue my heart possest no cares did vexe my head But since he harboured in my brest my golden dayes are fled Time was when fortune did allow great gladnesse to my share But ah for that time is not now doth grow my cause of care Time was when I liude in delight and reapt of ioyes my fill But now time is workes me despite would waste had tarried still No hap so hard no griefe so great whereof I féele not part Now shiuering colde now flaming heate anoyes my wofull heart So that hope is the onely stay on which my life dependes Which if it once be tane away my date of liuing ends God graunt my hope such hap may sée that good successe ensue Which if it long prolonged be through griefe I die adiew For his friende I That in fréedome liued of late And neuer stoupt to Cupids lure Haue now made change of my estate And thousand torments doe endure As late abrode I cast my lookes In fancies lune I fast was cought And beauty with her bayted hookes Hath me alas in bondage brought I loue but lacke the thing I craue I liue but want my chiefest good I hope but hap I cannot haue I serue but starue for want of foode Then so to loue what state more yll Such life affoordes small time of ioy Such wauering hope doth often kill To serue and starue what worse anoy Yet wil I loue whiles life doth last And liue whiles any hope remaines And hope when dismal dayes are past To haue reward for all my paynes Loe thus I liue by hope sustaynd Yet through dispayre die euery houre In sorow glad in pleasure painde Now fed with swéete now choakt with sowre Deare Dame in humble sort I sew Since mine estate to you is known Voutsafe my dolefull case to rew And saue his life who is your owne Somewhat made of nothing at a Gentlewomans request YE gladly would haue me to make you some toy And yet will not tel me wherof I should write The strangenes of this doth bréed me anoy And makes me to séeke what things to endite If I should write rashly what comes in my braine It might be such matter as likes you not best And rather I would great sorow sustayne Then not to fulfill your lawfull request Two dangers most doubtful oppresse me alike Ne am I resolued to which I might yéelde Wherfore by perforce I am foretd to séeke This slender deuice to serue for my shield Since nothing yée geue me to busie my brayne Nothing but your nothing of me can yée craue Wherfore now receiue your nothing agayne Of nothing but nothing what els would yée haue Of the instability of Fortune WHo wisely waies false fortunes fickle change Which in short space turnes loue to mortal hate Shall find smal cause to déem it wondrous strange To fléete from happie life to worse estate For whie her swéete is alwaies mixt with sowre If now shée fawne she frownes within an houre Her smiles are wyles to cause men hope for hap Her traynes bréede paynes though pleasant be the show Him whom shée now doth dandle in her lap Straightway sustaines a wretched ouer throw And whom thou séest at foote of whéele downe cast Within short space shée hoyseth vp as fast The raging Seas which dayly ebbes and flowes The wauering winds which blow now here now there More constant are then fortunes flattering vowes Who in one hoode a double face doth beare To trust her lookes when shée doth fleere or laugh Is nothing els but trust a broken staffe Pollicrates as auncient writers tell On Fortunes whéele most highly was aduaunste And many a yéere shée fauourd him so well That no ill hap long time vnto him chaunst Yet in the end to shew her double wayes With hemping roape shée causde him end his dayes If thou wilt shun all sorow and distresse By fortunes threates doe set but litle store If thine affayres haue euer good successe Yéeld hearty thankes to God thy Lorde therefore If great annoyes doe fall vpon thée fast Thinke them due plagues for some offences past By prayer then make leuell with the Lorde Repentant hearts haue mercie when they call Loue him with feare delight to reade his worde So great good haps vnto thée will befall So shalt thou leade thy life without annoyes And after death possesse eternal ioyes Of the vanitie of this life I Reade in Poets faigned bookes That wise Vlysses wandring came Where Circes through her fawning lookes Did worke his men a spightfull shame She causde them quaffe great bowles of wine And presently they turnde to swine But hée which followed vertue still Refusde to taste this proffered charme And would not worke her beastly will As one that doubted farther harme Her witchcraftes and enchantmentes straunge Were not of force this man to chaunge The world with his alluring toyes Is Circes witch of whome they write Which temptes vs with her sugred ioyes And makes vs swimme in such delight That wée so play with pleasures ball As if there were no God at all If man would way what enemies Are alwayes prest him to deuoure Mée thinkes from sinne hée should arise And make defence with all his power For why the world the flesh and deuill Doe neuer cease to worke vs euill These so bewitch our foolish braines That nought wée force eternall paine And euery one in sinne remaines As if hell were a fable vaine Alas wée are seduced so That all true heartes do bléede for woe The shéepe doth yéerely yéelde his fléese The plodding Oxe the plow doth draw And euery thing in willing wise Kéepes and obayes dame Natures law But man in witte which should excell Against his Lord doth still rebell Ech doth deferre from day to day And thinkes the morow to amend But death arestes vs by the way And sodainly some makes their end O wretched case that they bée in Which die and not lament their sinne Thou silly man still feare the Lord Thy former sinnes with spéede forsake The iudgement day in minde record In which ech